


Gatsby Is Nick's Significant Other

by aardvark_french



Series: The Emo Maguire Saga [6]
Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966), My Chemical Romance, Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Black Parade Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Crime Fighting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Golf, Hair Dyeing, Historical Inaccuracy, In-Jokes, M/M, Memes, Old Sport (The Great Gatsby), Past Daisy Buchanan/Tom Buchanan, Past Jordan Baker/Nick Carraway, Period-Typical Racism, Polyamory, Time Travel, Tom Buchanan is a Dick, what hell yeah what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aardvark_french/pseuds/aardvark_french
Summary: I fixed The Great Gatsby. You’re welcome, F. Scott Fitzgerald.If it’s on Wikipedia, it must be true, right?
Relationships: Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom/Andrew Garfield, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Tobey Maguire, Frank Iero/Tobey Maguire/Gerard Way, Jordan Baker/Daisy Buchanan, Nick Carraway/Jay Gatsby, Tobey Maguire/Gerard Way
Series: The Emo Maguire Saga [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095386
Kudos: 5





	Gatsby Is Nick's Significant Other

Nick was standing beside Gatsby’s bed, and he was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands. “I’m thinking of throwing a party tonight, old sport,” Gatsby said as he gazed into his boyfriend’s blue eyes. 

“Again?” Nick said. “Can’t we have some time alone together? We could go out driving, or see a movie, or take a dip in that swimming pool of yours…” 

Gatsby shuddered. “No thanks, old sport,” he said. “I read that book you wrote, and trust me, I am never going swimming ever again.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick said. “I’ve never written a book.” 

“You wrote it under a pen name, old sport,” Gatsby said. “F. Scott Fitzgerald or something?” 

Nick was still confused. Gatsby had been acting strange ever since that fateful night two weeks ago, when Gatsby had lost his vast fortune and they’d first gotten together. Most of the time, Nick didn’t mind, especially when Gatsby flashed that gorgeous smile in his direction, when he said that he loved him in the same way, but sometimes, he said things like this that were just odd. 

“Now, who should I invite to my party, old sport?” Gatsby said. “The Buchanans, the McKees, maybe Jordan Baker…” Nick suddenly went pale. “What’s wrong, old sport?” 

“I haven’t broken up with Jordan yet. I haven’t told her about...you know…” 

“You should tell her, old sport,” Gatsby said. “She deserves to know.” 

“What if she hates me?” 

“No one could hate you, old sport.” 

All of a sudden, Nick and Gatsby heard a loud moaning sound coming from upstairs. Gatsby threw on a suit and climbed up to the second floor, where his tenants, a group of wayward time-travelers from the 21st century, were staying. The first two doors were open - Ray Torgo was in the library, playing his guitar, while Mikey Way was in the office, sticking his head in a bucket of Brain Bleach. The third door, however, was bolted shut, and it seemed to be where all of the noise was coming from. 

Gatsby knocked on the door, and the moaning stopped. A few minutes went by, and just as Gatsby was about to walk away, a very disheveled Tobey Maguire opened the door. 

“Sorry about that,” Tobey said to Gatsby. “Frank, Gerard, and I were...uhh...practicing a new song.” 

“It’s called DESTROYA!” Gerard exclaimed from the back of the room. 

“You’re late on your rent payment again, old sport,” Gatsby said. 

“Gatsby, none of us brought much money from the future, and we’re all unemployed…” Tobey explained. 

“It’s the neck tattoo,” Frank complained. “I can’t get a real job anymore because of it.” 

“This is a free country, old sport, but it’s not a rent-free country,” Gatsby said. 

“Leave me alone,” Tobey said. 

“Then give me rent, old sport.” 

“You’ll get your rent when you fix this damn door!” Tobey shouted. There was a long silence, and then Tobey said, “Listen, I’m sorry, Gatsby. I shouldn’t have yelled - it was nothing to be angry about, and besides, Gerard has a great plan for how he’s going to make you so rich that you can warp reality again.” 

“I’d love to hear it, old sport,” Gatsby said. “Why don’t you come down for breakfast?” 

Everyone went downstairs into Gatsby’s kitchen, perhaps the fanciest one any of them had ever been in, and Gatsby, Nick, Mikey, Torgo, Tobey, and Frank gathered around to hear Gerard’s latest get-rich-quick scheme. 

“So I saw Walt Disney walk by the other day, and I’ve got all of these great ideas for hugely successful cartoons that he could make,” Gerard said. “If I get him to make one of them, Gatsby can produce, and he’ll make a ton of money off of something that’s guaranteed to be a hit.” 

“That’s a wonderful idea, old sport,” Gatsby said. 

“Doesn’t that sound a little risky?” Nick said. 

“No risk, no reward, old sport.” 

“That’s what you said about shorting GameStop, and we all know how that went…” 

All of a sudden, Gerard looked out the window, and there he was. The Disneyland-lord. The king of the House of Mouse. The architect of everyone’s childhood. Walt Disney. 

Gerard sprinted outside, and Disney stared at the white-haired man in the black marching band uniform for a moment. “Who are you, and what’s wrong with your hair?” he asked.

“I’m Gee Way, and I’ve got a brilliant idea for you,” Gerard said. “It’s called The Breakfast Monkey, and it’s about a Scandinavian monkey who is also a chef. He shares the importance of breakfast to viewers, reminding them to never miss the most important meal of the day. Oh, and he can turn people’s heads into a stack of pancakes.” 

“No,” Disney said. “Just no.” 

“What?” Gerard said. “You can’t just shoot me down like that! I wasn’t even finished! There’s also a character named Crazy Boy, and he has a song, and it goes like this.” Gerard then began to sing, “When I was a young boy…” 

“I said no,” Disney said. “We don’t need more shows about food.” 

Gerard returned to Gatsby’s mansion, deeply disappointed. “It’s okay, Gee,” Frank said in a desperate attempt to comfort his boyfriend. “You can try again another time.” 

“Actually, I have an idea,” Tobey said. 

“What is it?” Gerard asked. 

Tobey picked up a copy of _The Daily Dewdropper_ and said, “We can get some pictures of Spider-Man and sell them to the local paper.” 

“That’s brilliant, Tobes!” Gerard exclaimed. 

“I think so too, old sport,” Gatsby said. 

“Why didn’t we think of this earlier?” Frank asked. 

Everyone agreed that this was a great way for Gatsby to regain his fortune, and later that day, while Gatsby was throwing his party, Tobey swung around New York City in his Spider-suit, crawling up and down every wall he could find. Meanwhile, Torgo, Mikey, Frank, and Gerard snapped photos of him, hoping that at least a few of them would turn out well enough for Tobey to sell them to the paper. 

“Could you come a little closer?" Torgo said to Tobey. "The zoom lens on this camera doesn’t work very well.” 

“Sure,” Tobey said. His web latched onto the next building over, and he swung over to it, just as the wind started to pick up. “Is this better?” 

“Much better,” Mikey said as he took a photo of Tobey. 

Tobey posed for a few more pictures, and as it suddenly began to rain, he said, “I’ve got an idea.” 

He shot his web over to another building and then lowered himself until he was upside-down and inches away from the lead singer of My Chemical Romance. Gerard, of course, knew exactly what to do. 

“Perfect,” Frank said as he snapped a picture of Gerard and Tobey kissing passionately. 

Tobey smiled as Gerard pulled away, already feeling like he’d won. These pictures were their ticket home. 

Meanwhile, at the party, Gatsby and Nick made their way through the crowd, attempting to hold a conversation by shouting over the loud jazz music that was playing in the background. “Relax, old sport,” Gatsby said. “I’m sure Jordan will understand.” 

“What did you say?” Nick asked. 

“I SAID I’M SURE JORDAN WILL UNDERSTAND, OLD SPORT!” 

“I still don’t want to talk to her,” Nick said. “Also, you know that my name isn’t ‘old sport,’ right?” 

“Of course I know that, old sport,” Gatsby said. “I just can’t stop saying ‘old sport,’ old sport. It’s like a disease, old sport.” All of a sudden, Jordan walked by, and Gatsby said, “There’s your chance, old sport. Go talk to her.” 

Nick nervously approached Jordan, and as she looked at him inquisitively, he managed to stammer out, “I...I’m gay.” 

“Of course,” Jordan said. “There are gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Nick said. “I’m homosexual.”

“Cool,” Jordan said. “Me too.”

“Wait, really?” 

“I told you Jordan would understand, old sport!” Gatsby shouted, but Nick paid his boyfriend no attention. 

“We should probably break up,” Nick said. 

“That seems wise,” Jordan said as she glanced toward Gatsby. “Let me guess...you’re only telling me this now because you _finally_ hooked up with Gatsby, and he told you to break up with me?” Nick blushed and nodded. “Good for you, Nick!” Jordan exclaimed. “Can I ask you to do me a favor though?” 

“What is it?” Nick asked. 

“Your cousin Daisy...she’s so charming and beautiful and she has this voice that’s just _thrilling_ \- she sounds like a goddess...can you help me get together with her?” 

Nick gave his ex-girlfriend a confused look and then said, “Sure?” 

All of a sudden, Torgo, Mikey, Gerard, Frank, and Tobey walked into the room. Jordan looked toward Tobey, looked back at Nick, and then said, “I didn’t know you had a twin brother.” 

“I don’t,” Nick said. “That’s Tobey - he’s a friend of Gatsby’s.” 

“I didn’t know Gatsby had friends.” 

Before Nick could defend his boyfriend, Torgo chimed in with, “We heard you were looking for a wife, Jordan.” 

“That’s you, Torgo,” Mikey said. “Jordan just wants to date some girl named...what was it again? Daisy?” Jordan blushed and nodded. “We’ve got some advice for you.” 

“How?” Gerard said to his brother. “You’re not dating anyone, are you?” 

“Actually, I am.” 

“Who?” Gerard asked, but Mikey stayed silent. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!” 

Frank turned to Jordan and said, “If you want Daisy, you should jump out of her locker. It’s romantic, trust me.” 

“Or read her poetry, and if that fails, impress her with your dance moves,” Tobey said as he started doing his emo dance yet again. “That’s how I won over Gerard.” 

“Or draw her a comic book, and if that fails, sing her a song about how she can run away with you any time she wants,” Gerard suggested, his eyes fixated on his boyfriend. “That’s how I won over Tobey.” 

“Or put your arm around her and accidentally break her nose!” Frank shouted. 

“Or grope her shoulder!” Torgo exclaimed. 

Jordan looked deeply concerned by all of this, so Mikey said, “Don’t be afraid to do the most insane thing, Jordan. Don’t think it’s too crazy. Just go for it.” 

“I guess I’ll give some of your suggestions a try,” Jordan said. “It’s just...I don’t know if I can do this. She’s so pretty and perfect in every way, and I don’t deserve her at all…”

“You can do this, Jordan,” Nick said. “If I can get together with Gatsby, then you can get together with Daisy.” 

“Did you say my name, old sport?” Gatsby said as he walked over to Nick, carrying a martini glass, and when he smiled at Nick, he practically swooned. 

The time travellers stuck around for a little while longer, but as the party raged into the night, they knew that they had to get to bed. After all, Tobey had to get up early tomorrow morning if he wanted to have any hope of selling those Spider-Man pictures. 

The next morning, Tobey webbed his way over to the _Daily Dewdropper_ offices. The pictures had turned out beautifully - there were plenty of great pictures of Spidey swinging through the city, and even though he’d decided to keep the one of him and Gerard kissing for himself, he would have more than enough to sell to the paper. 

When Tobey got there, he took the elevator up to the top floor, where he found the editor’s office. A sign hung on the door, reading “J. Jonah Jameson Sr.,” and even from outside the door, Tobey could hear him shouting at a reporter over something or another. 

“Listen, I need a front-page feature on the critical lesbian shortage by this afternoon, or you’re fired,” he said. “And I need pictures! Pictures of Spider-Man!” 

Tobey cautiously knocked on the door, and the reporter opened it. J. Jonah Jameson stared at him for a moment, chomping on his cigar, and then said, “You’re fired.” 

“I don’t think he works here,” the reporter said. 

“Right,” Jameson said. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” 

“I’m Tobey Maguire, and I thought you might be interested in these.” 

He dropped the pictures on Jameson’s desk, and he inspected him for a moment. “Not exactly what I’m looking for,” he said as he tossed them aside. 

Tobey was completely shocked. “But...but they’re pictures of Spider-Man!” he stammered. “You wanted pictures of Spider-Man!” 

J. Jonah Jameson picked up one of the pictures and took another look at it. “It’s another one of those crawling arachnid menaces all right, but it’s not _our_ Spider-Man,” he said. “Look, the webbing’s different, and he’s not wearing a fedora or a trenchcoat, and…” Jameson looked closely at the photo and then said, “Are those _colors_?” 

“His costume is red and blue,” Tobey said, trying his best to be helpful. 

“I can’t believe it!” Jameson shouted. “We have two of these criminals running around! Two vigilantes! Two menaces!” 

There was a long silence, and then Tobey asked, “So are you going to use any of my shots? And if you do, could you pay me in advance?” 

Jameson laughed and then asked, “You serious?” When he realized that Tobey was, in fact, serious, he shouted, “No! Get out of my office!” 

Tobey left the building, a single tear running down his face as he returned to Gatsby’s mansion. However, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jameson had said. He wasn’t the only Spider-Man in town, which begged the question...how many radioactive spiders were out there? 

When he opened the door to Gatsby’s mansion, Gerard was inside, and he’d just finished dyeing his hair radioactive red. “Gerard,” Frank said, in awe of his boyfriend’s new hair color. “You look…” 

“Like a street-walking cheetah with a capital G!” Gerard shouted sassily. 

“You really do look gorgeous, Gerard,” Tobey said. 

“So do you,” Gerard said. “Especially with that emo hair.” 

Tobey flipped his hair and then frowned. “Actually, I’ve been thinking of cutting it.” 

“But it looks so good on you,” Gerard said as he ran his hands through Tobey’s hair. 

“Yeah, but it...it’s not me.” 

Gerard sighed. “You should cut it then, as much as I’ll miss your glorious emo fringe…” 

“Unicorns are real, and emo is imaginary!” Mikey shouted from another part of the house, but no one paid him much attention. 

“So how did it go?” Gerard asked Tobey. “Did you sell them your pictures?” 

“No,” Tobey said. “Apparently, there’s another Spider-Man out there, and the _Daily Dewdropper_ wants pictures of him.” 

“Another Spider-Man?” Gerard said. “In the 1920s?” 

“I know - I’m kind of confused about that too,” Tobey said. “I’ll swing around New York tonight and see if I can find him.” 

“In the meantime, I guess it’s time for Plan B,” Gerard said. 

“I thought selling pictures of Spider-Man was Plan B,” Frank said. 

“I guess it’s time for Plan C then,” Gerard said.

“What’s Plan C?” Frank asked. 

Gerard glanced out the door, and there he was again: the greatest Imagineer. The future owner of every intellectual property on the planet. Walt Disney. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Gerard said as he sprinted out the door. 

Disney stared at the redheaded man in the blue Dead Pegasus jacket for a moment, and then asked, “Who are you, and what’s wrong with your hair?” 

“I’m Party Poison…” 

“What kind of a name is that?” 

“Just go with it, because I’ve got a brilliant idea for you,” Gerard said. “It’s called The Umbrella Academy.” 

“Is that where they teach you how to use an umbrella?” 

“No,” Gerard said. “It’s about 43 superpowered children who were spontaneously born on the same day, and this wealthy inventor adopts seven of them, and they’re all like a dysfunctional family, but with superpowers. Oh, and there’s a talking monkey.” 

“No,” Disney said. “Just no.” 

“Why not?” Gerard said. “I think it’s a fabulous idea.” 

“Someone pitched me a show about a talking monkey just the other day.” 

Gerard sighed. “Forget about the monkey then,” he said. “I’ve got a new idea.” 

“What is it?” 

“In an alternate universe, it’s 3145, and there’s a 14-year-old girl named Peni Parker who has a psychic link with a radioactive spider that lives inside of a mech suit…” 

“No. Just no.” 

“Did you even listen to my idea?” 

“I’m not interested,” Disney said as he walked away. 

Gerard stood at the street corner for a few minutes, sadly staring into the green light, before a young man in a red T-shirt that read “Grinnell: Conveniently Located Between New York City and Los Angeles” approached him. 

“Who are you?” Gerard asked. 

“I’m Gary Cooper, and I’m a first year at Grinnell College, where we ask hard questions and question easy answers,” he said. 

“Uhh...okay?” Gerard said, too distraught to realize that he was talking to one of the biggest stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood. 

“I really liked your idea,” Gary said. “The one about the superhero family.”

“Really?” 

Gary nodded. “You know, I’m something of an actor myself, and I’d love to play one of the roles…” 

Gerard looked him over, but he couldn’t see him as a member of the Umbrella Academy: not Luther, not Diego, not Allison, not Five, not Ben, not Vanya, and certainly not Klaus, his personal favorite of the Hargreeves siblings. 

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I can help you,” Gerard said as he walked back toward Gatsby’s mansion, disappointed that his get-rich-quick scheme had failed once again. 

That night, as Gatsby threw another one of his legendary parties, Tobey cut his hair, donned his Spider-suit, and swung from building to building, searching for the other Spider-Man. However, as he webbed his way from Queens to Brooklyn to Manhattan, past the green light and the eyes of Doctor TJ Eckleburg, he wished that he had Gerard and Frank with him. Even though it was pouring rain, the view from the rooftops was incredible, and all he wanted was to share it with his boyfriends. 

All of a sudden, he spotted him. He was standing on top of the Woolworth Building, he was dressed in all black, from his fedora to his boots, and his trenchcoat was dramatically billowing in the wind. As the other Spider-Man let a match burn down to his fingertips just to feel something, anything, Tobey latched his web onto the top of the skyscraper, and he swung over to the trenchcoat-wearing stranger, landing right next to him. 

“Who are you?” the other Spider-Man asked, sounding suspiciously like Nic Cage. _Is everyone around here a famous actor?_ Tobey wondered. Daisy looked a lot like Carey Mulligan, Gatsby bore an uncanny resemblance to Leonardo DiCaprio, and of course, he and Nick looked so much alike that they could be twins. He couldn’t figure it out. 

“I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” Tobey said to the other Spider-Man. 

“That’s not true,” he replied. “It’s impossible!” He paused and then shouted, “You can’t be Spider-Man, because _I’m_ Spider-Man!”

Tobey shrugged. “We’re both Spider-Man, but to make this less confusing, can I call you something else? Like Spider-Man Noir or something?” 

“I guess that’s fine,” Noir said. “So were you bitten by a radioactive spider too?”

Tobey nodded. “And then I got all of these new powers. Like being able to crawl up walls and sense things before they happen…” 

“Super strength, speed, and agility? Incredible reflexes? Being able to shoot web?” 

Tobey nodded. “All of those,” he said. “Plus I didn’t need my glasses anymore, and I suddenly had a six-pack.”

“Huh,” Noir said, slightly disappointed. “I don’t remember that happening to me. I did feel a sudden urge to steal the Declaration of Independence though.” 

Tobey looked at Noir like he was crazy, which to be fair, he probably was. “So are you a superhero too?” he asked. 

“I like fighting Nazis. A lot,” Noir said. “Does that count?” 

All of a sudden, Tobey’s Spider-Sense began to tingle. He looked down, and on the sidewalk below, there was a group of Nazis holding some sort of meeting. “All of these lesser races are crowding up New York,” one of them said. “We have to find a final solution for them.”

“Indeed, but where should we start?” one of the others replied. “There are so many of them, and as the master race, we have to make sure they don’t get too powerful. They need to know their place.” 

“Let’s kill the fanfiction readers!” another Nazi exclaimed. “They’re the worst of the whole bunch!” 

Tobey, of course, was furious. Spider-Man was a hero for everyone, black or white, straight or gay, fanfiction reader or not. He looked to Spider-Man Noir, and he knew exactly what he had to do. 

“There’s a whole bunch of Nazis down there,” he said. “We should fight them.” 

“You don’t say?” Spider-Man Noir said as he whipped out his gun, and even with his mask on, Tobey could tell there was a huge smile on Noir’s face. 

The two of them both leaned off the side of the building and shot their web downwards, and as Tobey swung onto the street below, with Noir by his side, he felt a rush of adrenaline. He couldn’t wait to put these fascist schmucks in their place.

Meanwhile, at Gatsby’s party, Jordan was ready to make a move on Daisy. She was crammed in a locker, and all of the muscles she’d developed from playing golf for a living barely fit inside, so she waited in considerable discomfort, hoping that Daisy would walk by sometime soon. 

All of a sudden, she heard something, and to her delight, it was Daisy’s voice, accompanied by Tom and Gatsby. “Tom, what have you been reading lately?” Daisy asked. 

“Have either of you read 'The Rise of the Coloured Empires' by this man Goddard?" Tom asked. 

“Of course not, old sport,” Gatsby said. “I’m not a white supremacist.” 

“Well, it's a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don't look out the white race will be—will be utterly submerged. It's all scientific stuff; it's been proved.”

“All humans are created equal, old sport,” Gatsby said. 

“But we’re Nordics, and we've produced all the things that go to make civilization—oh, science and art and all that.” 

“Old sport, other cultures have science and art and civilizations too.” 

“No they don’t!” 

“Let’s argue about this somewhere else, old sport,” Gatsby said, and once Jordan was sure that the coast was clear, she leapt out of the locker, causing Daisy to shriek. 

“Jordan!” she shouted. “I...I didn’t know you were in there!” 

“I’ve been reading poetry lately,” Jordan said. “Day by day she gazed upon her, day by day she sighed with passion…” 

“Don’t start,” Daisy said. 

Clearly, this wasn’t working, so Jordan started to dance, awkwardly copying the emo dance moves that Tobey had shown her. However, all Daisy did was stare at her, looking visibly confused. 

Jordan suddenly stopped moving and reached back into the locker. “Here,” she said as she took out a small book filled with unbelievably terrible drawings and handed it to Daisy. “I wrote you a comic book.” 

“That’s nice,” Daisy said. “Thanks.” 

Daisy flipped through the comic, but just as she started to walk away, Jordan sang, “You can run away with me anytime you want!” 

Daisy continued to walk away, so Jordan ran after her. Once she was close enough, she tried to put her arm around her, but instead, she ended up elbowing her in the face. 

“OW!” Daisy shouted. 

“Are you okay?” Jordan asked. 

“My nose! You broke my nose!” 

As Daisy clutched onto her nose, Jordan stepped closer and put one hand on her shoulder. Her heart raced as she touched her bare skin, but within seconds, Daisy jerked her arm away. 

“What’s gotten into you, Jordan?!” Daisy shouted before storming off, leaving Jordan heartbroken. 

Back on the streets of Manhattan, Tobey dropkicked a Nazi, sending him flying, while Spider-Man Noir threw a handful of punches toward the bigoted tyrants. Soon, there were only a handful of them left, and as Tobey shot web in their direction, Noir aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. 

As Noir stood over the Nazis, pleased with his handiwork, one of them looked toward the web-slingers. “Who are you?” he asked, barely conscious. “Some sort of Spider-Men?” 

“I’m the spirit of vengeance, so what do you say we cut the chit-chat, A-HOLE?” Noir shouted as he aimed his gun at the Nazi’s head and fired, killing him instantly. Noir then turned back to Tobey, who seemed a little unnerved by all of the violence. “Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I think...I think so,” Tobey said as he took a deep breath. He didn’t feel too bad about murdering a bunch of unrepentant racists - if anyone deserved this fate, it was them - but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he approved of Noir’s more brutal methods. Spider-Man was supposed to save people, not kill them, and with great power came great responsibility, or at least that was what Tobey thought. 

“You need to close off your feelings so you don’t get crippled by the moral ambiguity of your violent actions,” Noir suggested. 

“I think what I need is to go home,” Tobey said. 

“Do you live around here?” Noir asked. 

“Not exactly,” Tobey said. “I...I’m a time traveler. From the year 2005.” Tobey had already said too much, but despite everything, he trusted Noir, and he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could help him get back home, back to his world of MySpace, flip phones, and guyliner. 

“So you’re me from the future,” Noir said. 

“Kind of,” Tobey said. 

“How did you get here?” 

“It’s a long story, but I need to get more money so I can go home.” 

“I can’t really help you with that, unfortunately.” 

“Actually, you can,” Tobey said. “Can I take your picture?” 

Tobey fumbled around for a moment, looking for his camera, but when he glanced back at Noir, he was gone. He’d left without answering his question, and now, he felt hopeless, like he would never get to go home again. 

As Tobey webbed his way back to Gatsby’s mansion, he passed by the _Daily Dewdropper_ offices, and to his surprise, he could hear J. Jonah Jameson yelling, even from outside the building. He stuck to the side of the tower, hoping to listen in to what he was saying. 

“I NEED PICTURES OF SPIDER-MAN!” Jameson shouted. “I know we have some of the red and blue one, but why do we still not have any of the weirdo in the trenchcoat?!” 

“Actually, I got some earlier today,” one of the reporters said meekly. 

Jameson looked at the photos for a moment before saying, “These are good, but I want something even better! I want to know who’s really underneath that mask! I want to expose Spider-Man for the menace he is! If someone, anyone can bring me a picture of Spider-Man without his mask, I’ll pay you!” 

“How much?” another reporter asked. 

“A BILLION DOLLARS!” Jameson screamed. 

Tobey smiled. This was it. This was how he would go back to the future. 

Tobey swung over to Gatsby’s mansion, quickly changed back into his normal clothes, and went inside. The party was in full swing, but Tobey cut through the crowds and headed up to the guest room, where Gerard was dyeing his hair again, and Frank was helping him tie his tie. 

“How did you learn how to do this?” Gerard asked. “I still can’t figure it out.” 

“Catholic school, obviously,” Frank responded as he pressed his lips to Gerard’s. “You look like a lemon, by the way.” 

“I’m supposed to look like a demon,” Gerard said. 

“A lemon demon?” Tobey suggested, while Frank laughed. 

“I love you both, but shut up,” Gerard said. 

“Why are you dyeing your hair again anyways?” Tobey asked. “It looks great on you, but you just dyed it red.” 

“I’m going to go talk to Walt Disney again,” Gerard said. “Wish me luck.” 

“Good luck, Gee!” Tobey called out as Gerard headed downstairs and found the mustachioed media mogul talking to another one of the partygoers. 

Walt Disney stared at the man in the suit and tie with the bright yellow hair for a moment and then said, “Who are you, and what’s wrong with your hair?” 

“I’m Gerard Way, and I’ve got a brilliant idea for you,” Gerard said. “It’s called Snakes on a Plane.” 

There was a long silence, and then Disney said, “Do you have anything more than that?” 

“There are snakes, and they’re on a plane. What else do you need to know?” 

“No. Just no.” 

“What? You can’t just shoot me down like that!” 

“I am not making a movie called Snakes on a Plane.” 

Disney walked away, leaving Gerard feeling disenchanted. However, a few minutes later, Gary Cooper walked up to him. 

“Ugh, why isn’t there any gooey butter cake at this party?” Gary complained. Gerard shrugged, and Gary said, “Anyways, I think Snakes on a Plane sounds like a great idea.” 

“Really?” Gerard said. 

“Yeah,” Gary said. “I’d love to have a part in it, and I think one of my friends might be interested too. Hey Samuel!” 

All of a sudden, Gary’s friend walked up to Gerard. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Samuel J. Lackson.” 

“You mean Samuel L. Jackson?” Gerard said, but Samuel J. Lackson just seemed confused. 

“Gerard’s making a movie called Snakes on a Plane,” Gary said. 

“That’s amazing!” Samuel shouted. “Oh, I’ve got a great idea for you, Gerard. You should make someone say ‘Enough is ENOUGH! I have HAD IT with these motherfuckin’ snakes on this motherfuckin’ plane!’”

Gerard grinned, knowing that he had a hit film on his hands. All he had to do was convince Gatsby to produce, but Gatsby was still in the middle of an argument with Tom. 

“I’m telling you, Gatsby,” Tom said. “We’re the dominant race, and we have to watch out, or the other races will have control of things.” 

“There’s no such thing as a dominant race, old sport!” Gatsby shouted before taking a step back and sighing. “I can’t do this anymore, old sport. Your opinions are trash. You’re trash. Samuel J. Lackson over there is ten times the man you’ll ever be.” 

“Speaking of Samuel J. Lackson, he agreed to be in the movie I came up with!” Gerard exclaimed. 

“What movie?” Gatsby asked as Nick walked in and immediately rested his head on Gatsby’s shoulder. 

“Snakes on a Plane,” Gerard said. “We still need to hire a writer and a director and an editor and a cinematographer, and we still have to cast all of the other actors, but trust me, it’s going to be huge. Gatsby, this is how you’re going to get your money back. You’ll be so rich that you can warp reality!” 

“The movie won’t be finished for years,” Nick pointed out. “What are you going to do in the meantime?” 

Gerard hadn’t thought of that. “It’s a good idea though, old sport,” Gatsby said as the MCR frontman stayed frozen in place. “Snakes on a Plane. It has a ring to it.”

“Gerard!” Tobey shouted from the top of the staircase, immediately distracting Gerard from his emotional pain. “What’s taking you so long?” 

“Come on, let’s go check on him,” Frank said. He grabbed Tobey’s hand and leapt down the stairs, dragging his boyfriend with him. 

On their way downstairs, the two of them crashed right into Jordan. “Hey there,” Frank said to the golfer. “How did things go with Daisy?”

“Not well,” Jordan said. “I think she hates me now.” 

“Why?” Frank asked. 

“I broke her nose.” 

Frank shrugged. “It could be worse. I almost split Gerard’s head open on stage once.” 

Jordan ignored him and looked straight at Tobey. “Nick?” she said. 

“I’m not Nick,” Tobey said. 

“Sorry, I meant Tobey,” Jordan said. “Could you do me a favor by any chance?” 

“Sure, what is it?” Tobey said. Jordan whispered something in his ear, and he nodded. “Of course. I can definitely do that for you.” 

“Thanks, Tobey,” Jordan said, and she went upstairs while Frank and Tobey headed into the ballroom to find Gerard. 

As soon as they found him, Gerard explained what had happened with Snakes on a Plane. “I don’t want to be stuck here for the next few years,” he complained to Frank, Tobey, Mikey, and Torgo. 

“It could be worse,” Torgo said. “You could be a slave to the leader of a polygamist cult in El Paso.” 

“Yeah, but I want to go home.” 

“J. Jonah Jameson said that he’ll pay a billion dollars to anyone who can snap a picture of Spider-Man Noir without his mask,” Tobey blurted out suddenly. 

“So if we get a good photo of him, we can go back to the 21st century,” Gerard said. “That’s brilliant, Tobes.” 

“Maybe we can take the train to Manhattan tomorrow,” Tobey suggested. “That seems to be where he hangs out.” 

“I’m so glad we have you, Tobey,” Frank said as he wrapped his arm around him, not breaking his nose this time. 

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good plan, but shouldn’t we get some sleep if we’re going to try to hunt down Spider-Man Noir tomorrow?” Mikey said. 

“SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! JUST SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!” Gerard screamed as the five of them went back upstairs, leaving Nick and Gatsby alone together. Despite Gerard’s screaming and all of the partying going on downstairs, all of them were soon fast asleep. They knew they would need all of their strength if they were going to find a way to unmask Spider-Man Noir. 

The next day, the members of My Chemical Romance all boarded a train heading into Manhattan, while Tobey swung alongside them, keeping his eyes peeled for his fedora-clad counterpart. Unfortunately, the trip there was far from perfect. Frank wouldn’t shut up about how terrifying Tobey’s Spider Powers were, Tobey accidentally dropped his mask while swinging high above New York, and Mikey ended up sitting right next to Tom Buchanan, causing him to turn his iPod volume all the way up to block out Tom’s racist rants. 

All of a sudden, Frank spotted him. Spider-Man Noir. 

He rolled the window down to alert Tobey, but before he could say anything, a bridge spontaneously exploded right in front of the train. Frank clung onto Gerard, certain that he was going to die as the train kept on hurtling toward the end of the track. If someone didn’t stop them, they would all plunge right into the Hudson River. 

That was when Tobey jumped to the front of the train, knowing exactly what to do. He’d done this before, back before he’d met Gerard and Frank. He could do it again. 

Tobey webbed two nearby buildings and braced himself for the ride, using every ounce of his strength to hold on. As the train hurtled toward the end of the track, he shot web after web, latching onto something, anything, using every single bone and muscle in his body to stop the train. He would save Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Torgo and every last person on board the train, even if it was the last thing he did. 

The train began to slow down, but Tobey worried that it wasn’t enough. He let out a scream, trying his best to hold onto the webs he’d already shot and create as many new ones as he could before the train fell off the track. Eventually, the train screeched to a stop, but Tobey immediately collapsed and tumbled into the river. 

Gerard, of course, sprinted to the front of the train, leaned over the edge, grabbed onto Tobey’s hand, and lifted him back onto the train. “Tobey?” he said as he cradled his superpowered boyfriend. “Are you okay?” 

Tobey’s eyes fluttered open, and he managed to stammer, “Well...if...you...wanted…honesty...” 

“That’s all you had to say!” Gerard exclaimed, tears of joy flowing from his eyes. 

“Please never do that again, Tobey,” Frank said, shuddering. “I was so worried about you, and all of those spiderwebs were so scary…” 

“I found your mask, by the way,” Torgo said as he tossed Tobey’s Spider-Man mask toward him. However, he didn’t have time to put it on before Spider-Man Noir jumped onto the train, pulled out his gun, and shot Tom. 

Tobey looked toward Noir, shocked. “Why did you do that?” he asked. 

“He was a racist,” Noir explained. “The ringleader of a whole Nazi organization. I had no choice but to kill him, Tobey.” 

There was a long silence before Tobey finally said, “You know my secret identity.” Noir nodded, and Tobey looked him dead in the eye. “Now tell me yours.” 

Noir took off his mask, and to Tobey’s surprise, he looked exactly like him, like he could be his identical twin. “Nick?” Tobey said, and Gatsby’s significant other nodded. 

“Wait a second,” Frank said as Nick played with his fedora. “If you’re actually Nick Carraway, then how come you sound like Nic Cage when you’re in the suit?” 

“There’s a voice changer in there,” Nick said. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of it, Tobey. I knew exactly who you were the moment you started talking.” 

Tobey wasn’t paying much attention: as Nick spoke, he pulled out his flip phone, and he snapped a photo of him. The picture was a bit fuzzy, but it was still obvious from the photo exactly who Spider-Man Noir was. “Hey!” Nick shouted. “You can’t do that!” 

“Sure I can,” Tobey said. “Thanks for the memories, Nick, but I’ve got to do Jordan a quick favor before I go back to 2005.” 

Tobey put on his mask, latched his web onto a nearby building, and launched himself through the train window, while the members of MCR gleefully watched him. “We’re going home,” Gerard said with a smile. “And my way home is through you, Tobes.”

Meanwhile, Jordan and Daisy were playing a round of golf. They were on the last hole, and Jordan was winning easily. As Jordan swung her golf club, finishing with a perfect follow-through, Daisy closely watched Jordan and her powerful arms, her gray sun-strained eyes, her beautiful face. 

Jordan had learned her lesson from the disastrous night at the party. She’d tried so hard to impress Daisy, used every last flirting tip that Frank, Tobey, Gerard, and Torgo had given her, but none of them worked, all because she was trying to be someone she wasn’t. She had to be herself for once. 

Or she could be Spider-Woman. Clearly, there were more than enough radioactive spiders to go around. 

“How did you learn how to play golf so well, Jordan?” Daisy asked, still in awe of Jordan’s golf prowess. 

“No comment,” Jordan said. “By the way, I’m sorry about...everything.” 

“My nose?” Daisy said. “It’ll heal.” 

“That’s not what I was talking about,” Jordan said. “I’m sorry about Tom. I heard he died in some sort of train accident.” 

Daisy shrugged. “I never loved him.” 

“What about your daughter? Won’t it be hard for her, growing up without a father?” 

“I have a daughter?” 

There was a long silence, and then Daisy set her golf ball on the ground, swung her golf club, and sent the ball flying into the distance. The two of them then started walking across the golf course, Jordan hardly able to contain her feelings for the beautiful woman standing next to her. 

“I meant it when I said I never loved Tom,” Daisy said. “All of the men in my life are horrible, honestly.” 

“Even Gatsby?” Jordan said, although she couldn’t help but agree with Daisy. 

“Especially Gatsby. He’s a bootlegger, you know.” Daisy sighed and said, “What I need is a woman like you, Jordan. Someone smart and sporty and beautiful. Someone who can teach me empathy, altruism, responsibility, love…” 

All of a sudden, Daisy spotted it. Next to the final hole, there was a spider web, and it read “I love you, Daisy.” 

“Jordan?” Daisy said. “Did you…?” 

Jordan nodded. “With a little help from Spider-Man, yes,” she said. 

“I love you too, Jordan,” Daisy said. She kissed Jordan passionately, and Jordan froze, unable to believe that this was truly happening. 

It might have been the happiest day of her life. 

On the other side of town, Tobey landed his web just outside of the _Daily Dewdropper_ offices, snuck into an alleyway to change back into his normal clothes, and walked right into J. Jonah Jameson’s office. 

“You’d better have some half-decent pictures of Spider-Man this time,” Jameson said as soon as Tobey entered the room. 

“Even better,” Tobey said. “I know his secret identity.” Tobey placed the photo on Jameson’s desk, and as Jameson looked it over, he said, “His name is Nick Carraway, and he lives in West Egg, and…” 

Jameson glanced back and forth between Tobey and the photo. “You’re Spider-Man,” he concluded. 

“No...no, of course not,” Tobey said. “That’s Nick, not me. I’m not Spider-Man, at least not this…” 

“Then why does he look exactly like you?” 

“You know what?” Tobey said, exasperated. “Fine. I’m Spider-Man.” 

“You’re a criminal!” Jameson shouted. “A vigilante! A public menace!” 

“I missed the part where that’s my problem,” Tobey said. “Besides, didn’t you say you would pay a billion dollars to anyone who gave you a picture of Spider-Man without his mask? I think you owe me some money, Jameson.” 

J. Jonah Jameson sighed, wrote a check for a billion dollars, and threw it at Tobey before shouting, “Get out of my office!” 

Tobey webbed his way out of the building and swung over to Gatsby’s mansion. “Gatsby!” he shouted as he dropped into the room. 

“What is it, old sport?” Gatsby asked. Tobey handed him the check, and Gatsby smiled. “Thanks, old sport!” he exclaimed. “Now I can warp reality again!” 

Gatsby was about to create a Plot Hole, but Gerard interrupted him. “Can you promise me something?” he said. 

“Sure, old sport,” Gatsby said. 

“Make sure you use your money for good, okay?” Gerard said. “There are a lot of people out there who aren’t as fortunate as you are, and you might want to use some of that money to make life better for everyone instead of throwing wild parties every night.” 

“Oh, I know, old sport, and that’s exactly what I plan to do,” Gatsby said. All of a sudden, Nick walked into the room, and Gatsby wrapped his arms around him. “I have Nick now, old sport, and it doesn’t matter how rich or poor I am, as long as I’m with him. He’s my American dream.” 

Gatsby tossed a stack of $100 bills into the air, and a Plot Hole suddenly opened up. Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Torgo, and Tobey said their goodbyes to Nick and the great Gatsby before they all jumped into the Plot Hole, ready to leave 1922 behind and return home. 

“Take care, old sport,” Gatsby said, and as he tumbled through the Plot Hole, Tobey swore he could see a green light glowing behind Gatsby, but the five of them beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. 

All of a sudden, Tobey, Gerard, Frank, Mikey, and Torgo all hit the ground, and sure enough, they were back in New Jersey in the year 2005. While the others stumbled to their feet, Frank looked upwards at an unfamiliar building. 

“The Jay Gatsby Foundation Relief Center,” he read. “That’s weird. I don’t remember that being there.” 

Frank stared at the building for a while, wondering how it was possible for them to return to a future that was different from the one they’d left, but then he remembered that he’d gone through a Plot Hole, and he wasn’t supposed to think too hard about this if he wanted the universe to stay in one piece. 

As Frank gazed up at the building, Torgo picked up a newspaper and flipped through it. “After Tobey Maguire’s tragic and untimely death, Andrew Garfield has entered negotiations to take over as Spider-Man. This follows the news of his royal wedding to Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom,” he read.

Tobey started to cry, but Torgo ignored him and kept reading. Meanwhile Mikey looked around at his surroundings. “Is anyone else weirded out by that ‘Welcome! Everything is fine’ sign?” Mikey said, but no one paid any attention to him.

“It’s also the 80th anniversary of Gary Cooper’s film debut in the classic silent feature Snakes on a Plane, also starring Samuel J. Lackson,” Torgo said. 

“Let me see that,” Gerard said as he snatched the newspaper from Torgo. He flipped through the paper for a few minutes before he noticed something very important. It was the first day of April. 

“We can’t fight Andrew Garfield today,” Gerard said. 

“Why not?” Tobey asked. 

“Today is the most important day of the year.” 

“Halloween?” Frank said excitedly. 

“Other than Halloween,” Gerard said. “It’s Waluigi Day!” 

And that was a reason to celebrate.


End file.
